


lust

by blondeslytherin



Series: seven deadly sins [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Dinner, Feelings, Lust, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sex, That's basically what this is, Top Lance (Voltron), Vibrators, discussion of sex, yeah that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 20:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20377618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondeslytherin/pseuds/blondeslytherin
Summary: lust: very strong sexual desire~~~Lance sends him a text the next morning telling Keith that dinner is happening Friday night. There’s approximately three winky face emojis and the eggplant and a water droplet emoji and Keith doesn’t really have to strain his brain figuring out what those mean.He’s got four full days to get through including today and Friday, and Keith is pretty sure this is what purgatory is going to be like—waiting in Hell but knowing Heaven comes soon.And then...The scene that plays in his mind is downright dirty. Keith needs Friday, like, now.





	lust

**Author's Note:**

> uh. so. yeah. this. this is a thing i chose to write. while sitting next to my mom. welp. here it is?
> 
> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated and loved :)

It happens like this: with an antsy Keith on a couch in Lance’s living room.

Lance is in the kitchen, prepping dinner, and Keith is practically salivating at the smell of it. He can hear Lance humming, low under his breath, words not discernable but tune soft.

And Keith…

So here’s the thing. That night following dinner? A month ago? Yeah, he wants that to happen again, specifically _right now._

Since Lance ate him out that one time, it’s been strictly hand-holding and snuggles on a couch too small for both of them to lay down and pecks on the cheek. Yes, of _course _it’s nice—it’s Lance after all—but Keith can’t help but want more.

And every time he tries to bring it up, his tongue fails him. There are moments where Keith catches Lance staring, a distant look in his eye and his lower lip caught between his teeth and Keith thinks that yes, tonight is the night, _finally_. But then Keith looks a little longer and the expression goes away and Lance’s face softens, and Keith goes to bed with only a quick kiss.

He knows things take time and he’s absolutely not about to pressure Lance into having sex again if he doesn’t want to. But Keith’s hand only does so much and with the memory of Lance’s mouth still ever present, Keith doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to go back to solo sessions.

The stove turns off in the kitchen, the smell of fajitas filling Keith’s nose. It’s soft and domestic and Keith thinks maybe—

“Hey babe, you ready for dinner?” Lance asks, poking his head around the corner, chin on his hands.

“Should I call poison control beforehand?” Keith asks, only half joking.

Lance rolls his eyes, but guilt lurks in the corners of his mouth. “How many times do I have to apologize for that?”

“Well considering I nearly died—”

“I promise I didn’t use any peanut oil this time.”

The guilt has expanded to the point where Lance genuinely looks like he might cry over the memory. Keith gets up, pulling Lance fully around the corner and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s middle.

“You know I’m not really mad about it, right?”

“I still feel bad—”

Keith catches his mouth, kissing him softly. “It’s all good.”

Lance kisses him back, hesitating only for a heartbeat. “Yeah.”

He still has his head tucked into Lance’s neck, breathing in the smell of spices and body wash. “Now let’s eat dinner.”

~~~  
Lance is a good cook—Keith really has to give him that. His mouth may burn from the spices but it’s absolutely worth it. And the shining glow in Lance’s eyes? Keith thinks that one day it’s going to kill him.

He takes care of the dishes and Lance comes into the kitchen when he’s nearly done, mimicking Keith from earlier and tucking his arms around Keith’s waist. His pointy chin digs into Keith’s shoulder but he’d never tell him.

“Look at you, being all good at the dishes,” Lance says, fumbling his words in the middle and ending with a laugh.

“I have to do something if you’re the cook between us.”

Lance hums. “I appreciate it.”

“I appreciate you.”

Lance hums again, and then takes his pointy chin off of Keith’s shoulder, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his neck. Keith’s hands still, submerged in the soapy water. Lance moves higher up his neck and Keith sucks in a harsh breath.

Lance continues to mark his way up Keith’s neck, and Keith drops the plate in the sink, where it clatters loudly. Neither of them pay it any mind. Lance’s mouth has reached his ear, sucking the lobe in between his teeth and biting down gently. Keith hisses, leaning fully into Lance.

“Lance…” Keith groans.

“What’s up?” Lance murmurs.

Keith pushes harder against him, hoping that gets the message across. He’d have his hands on Lance if he could, but the towel is out of reach and Keith doesn’t dare to break the moment.

“Eager, aren’t ya?” Lance says, laughing against Keith’s skin.

He won’t beg. He won’t.

Lance kisses the edge of Keith’s jaw and Keith can’t help the sound that comes out of him. God, tonight is finally the night, fucking finally—

Cold washes over him as Lance steps away, chuckling. The absence of heat is heavy, and Keith’s chest heaves as he tries to get his breath back.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Lance asks, halfway out of the kitchen.

“Sure,” Keith groans, dipping his hands back into the water to retrieve the fallen plate.

Tonight does not end up being the night.

~~~  
It’s four days later and Lance has just sent him a post-workout selfie and Keith is done. Absolutely wrecked. No recovery possible.

He buries his face into his pillows, image still open on his phone, and makes up his mind. He’ll bring it up with Lance tonight and if he says he’s not ready to do it again that’s fine, but Keith can’t stand not addressing it any longer.

God, this boy is going to ruin him.

~~~

His bones ache from the case he dealt with today and Lance’s arms are more than welcoming when he shows up unannounced at his door.

“Tough day?” he asks.

Keith nods into his chest.

“Come in, babe,” Lance says, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’ll make you some tea.”

Lance leads him in and Keith flops on the couch, nose in the cushions, and waits for Lance to make him tea. He’s on the edge of sleep when a soft hand rubs his shoulder, and Keith looks up, blinking bleariness out of his eyes and reaching one tired arm up to wrap his fingers around the handle of the mug.

“It’s better if you sit up,” Lance says in a soft voice, and Keith does, making a face at the effort of movement.

It’s a good decision and Keith knows it (spilling tea all over himself would be a bad thing) but it’s still annoying. Lance immediately makes it better by bouncing down next to him, arm thrown over the top of the couch and Keith shuffling over until he’s tucked against Lance’s side.

They sit in silence, Keith sipping his tea, and it’s nice. It’s soft and it’s nice and it’s exactly what Keith needs.

“Can I ask what made today bad?” Lance asks after they’ve sat there for some time. Keith takes a deep breath in, holding it. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, I totally get it.”

Keith shakes his head. “No, I want to talk about it. I just gotta… I gotta get my thoughts in order.” He can feel Lance nod against him.

“It’s just a tough case,” he says at last. “Mom ran away and dad’s dead and a kid who’s been bounced from home to home. He’s had some trouble with anger and his foster family just couldn’t take it with him anymore, not when they had kids of their own that they preferred. So I had to take him to his next home, and he uh…” Keith trails off, remembering the closed off kid in the back of the work car, eyes focused out the window and no words spoken during the hour-long trip. The crossed arms and the way he wouldn’t look his new foster mother in the eye, the way he stared Keith down as Keith drove away. Keith knew that feeling a little too well. “He’s one of my harder cases. He’s getting close to the age where people don’t want to adopt anymore, and I’m worried about him.”

Lance doesn’t reply immediately, just twirls a lock of Keith’s hair around his finger, Keith leaning into the feeling. “With a foster worker like you, I’m sure he’s in great hands,” he says.

“Thanks,” is all Keith can say, emotion clogging his throat.

“Always,” Lance replies, and then their heads are turning, and their mouths are meeting and Keith feels nothing but bliss and—

_This is the beginning. _

_The beginning of something he’ll never be able to walk away from._

Distantly, Keith feels his body put the mug over on the coffee table, but his head is full of Lance, Lance,

“_Lance_,” he groans as he breaks their kiss, trying to get air back into his chest. He can feel Lance smile against his mouth, and Keith resists the urge to take Lance’s lower lip into his mouth and bite.

There’s still a distantly rational part of his mind—well, can it really be called that?—that remembers the conversation he wanted to have tonight.

He leans further back and Lance chases after him, but Keith turns his head in time for Lance to land a kiss to his cheek. “Can we talk?” he asks, and Lance immediately leans back.

Worry clouds his eyes and Keith panics. “No, it’s not about anything bad, I just wanna bring something up.”

The worry disappears slightly, but Lance’s brow is still wrinkled. “What’s up?”

_Oh, shit, he actually has to say words now._

“I uh—” Keith looks to the ceiling as if it will provide help. “Why haven’t we had sex since that night after dinner?” he asks bluntly, the only way he knows how.

“Oh,” Lance says, and Keith can hear the surprise in his voice. He doesn’t dare to look at him, can’t think past the burning in his cheeks. He’s an adult, dammit, he should be past this point in life. Lance clears his throat. “Can you look at me, please?”

Keith forces his gaze to Lance, who’s leaning on his forearm, hand tucked behind his neck. He looks utterly unaffected.

“I was waiting on you to say you were ready,” Lance admits. “I was afraid I pushed it too fast that first night, and I wanted to make sure you were okay with it before we did it again.”

_Oh. _

“Oh.”

Lance gives him a shy smile. “So I take it that was a ‘yes Lance, dear boyfriend of mine, I very much would like to sleep with you again?’”

“Yes Lance, dear boyfriend of mine, I very much would like to sleep with you again,” Keith deadpans, but he can’t fight the smile on his own face.

The distance between them closes again, the kiss more languid this time. Lance’s tongue sweeps into his mouth at almost a leisurely pace, and Keith shifts closer until he’s touching as much of Lance as he can. His pulse drums at a steady beat, and Keith wants more. He knows he can finally get more, and that’s what causes him to reach his hand up, wrapping his fingers around the back of Lance’s neck, hooking small strands of hair and tugging slightly.

Lance moans into his mouth and Keith feels warmth curl low in his gut. He’s half hard, the noises Lance is making driving him onward. His other hand braces against Lance’s chest, beginning a descent downward, when Lance breaks the kiss, scooching away.

“Okay I know we just agreed to have sex but not right now,” he pants.

Keith can’t help the disappointment that washes over him, the icky feeling curling through his abdomen.

“Not because I don’t want to,” Lance says, and his eyes seem to darken, “but because I want to fuck you so hard you can’t walk the next day, and we both have work tomorrow.”

The heat immediately comes back, and Keith buries his face in the crook of his arm, afraid of combusting right then and there.

“Lance,” he says, because that’s all he can say.

He feels Lance’s knee press into his, gentle hands cupping his face. “Poor baby,” he hears him croon.

Keith looks up, glaring at him, and Lance grins.

“Soon, alright?”

Keith nods. Soon.

~~~

Lance sends him a text the next morning telling Keith that dinner is happening Friday night. There’s approximately three winky face emojis and the eggplant _and _a water droplet emoji and Keith doesn’t really have to strain his brain figuring out what those mean.

He’s got four full days to get through including today and Friday, and Keith is pretty sure this is what purgatory is going to be like—waiting in Hell but knowing Heaven comes soon.

Four, long, long days.

~~~

He’s on his lunch break on Friday when he gets a snap from Lance. He doesn’t think much of it, tapping the notification and opening the image.

And then Keith spills water down his front, coughing and red in the face, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. Because that most certainly was not a safe for work image.

“You okay there, Keith?” his boss, Kolivan, asks, and Keith nods, clearing his throat.

“All good,” he responds. “Jump scare on YouTube.”

Kolivan gives him a look that Keith can’t fully discern but knows that Kolivan doesn’t 100% buy into his excuse. He drops the issue, though, and Keith is grateful.

His boss leaves and Keith is alone once more in the break room, leaning back against the wall and letting out a slow breath of air, trying to calm the pulse drumming in his temples. It was going to be a long several hours indeed.

~~~

He’s 23, knocking on his boyfriend’s door, and he’s more nervous than he was for his first date. Why? Keith couldn’t tell you. Maybe it had to do with the fact that this was Lance, the boy he’d wanted for longer than he really knew, the boy who smelled like the ocean and smiled like the sun, the boy he’d give the world to if he asked. Yeah, they’d already kinda went there once, but this… this was official. This had _thought _put into it. This was _something. _

Keith is pretty sure he could have stood there and overthought it for another half hour, but Lance opens the door, smiling that wide smile of his, and Keith feels his stomach dip as he smiles back.

“I’ve got dinner ready on the stove if you wanna pick out a movie,” Lance says, opening the door wider so that Keith could step in. “Hey, what’s in your hands?”

Keith looks down, seeing the flowers in his hands and feeling color dust his cheeks. “Oh, these? Just flowers.”

“Aw, babe, you got me flowers,” Lance croons, and Keith swats him with the bouquet. “You’re adorable.”

“You’re more adorable,” Keith grumbles, pushing his way inside. The flowers trade hands, and Keith takes his jacket off and hangs it on the back of his usual seat, before noticing that Lance wasn’t following him.

“Lance?”  
His boyfriend is still standing in the doorway, lower lip tucked between his teeth and hands shaking just slightly as he holds the bouquet.

“You remembered,” he says softly.

_Oh. _

“How could I not?” Keith replies, swallowing thickly.

It had been freshman year of college and they were all piled onto one sofa that really only could fit three fully grown humans, but certainly not five. Lance was squished against him as the movie played on the TV in front of them, some shitty rom com Keith couldn’t remember the name of. But there had been one scene where flowers were exchanged, and Lance had first looked pointedly toward Allura while Keith looked at Lance.

But then Lance had looked at Keith and Keith couldn’t force his eyes away as Lance’s face softened.

“You know,” he whispered, breath warming the shell of Keith’s ear. “Guys always give girls flowers, but never the other way around. I’d really like to get flowers someday.”

“Yeah?”

Lance had nodded. “Yellow roses and baby’s breath and lavender.”

Keith made a face. “That’s an odd assortment of flowers.”

Lance made a face back at him. “They have _meaning_, dummy.”

“What’s the meaning?”

Their voices had gotten louder to the point where Hunk and Pidge shushed them in unison, causing Lance to lean his head on Keith’s shoulder in order to continue the conversation in quieter tones.

“Yellow roses usually mean friendship, but they were the last thing my abuela ever gave me. And then baby’s breath is long lasting love, and lavender is devotion. Also, they all look really pretty together.”

Keith nodded, Lance’s head bobbing with his movement. “Sounds like you have it all thought out.”

“Yeah,” Lance whispered. “Just waiting for that special someone now.”

Lance is still holding the bouquet, light fingers trailing over the stems of lavender.

“It took a lot of convincing from the florist,” Keith says, taking a step closer to Lance.

“I still can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course I did. It’s you.”

Lance looks up, eyes brimming, and Keith thinks—

The flowers get set down on a nearby counter and before he even has time to process what’s happening Lance has his arms around Keith’s middle and his lips pressed against Keith’s and Keith forgets everything outside of this moment right here.

Lance kisses him with a passion that Keith hasn’t ever seen before, not even the night at _Altea’s_, and Keith can’t help but groan into the kiss.

Strong hands travel from down his back to cup his ass, and Lance is picking him up, Keith’s legs wrapping around him on instinct.

“God you’re so fucking—” Lance says, panting against Keith’s mouth as Keith is abruptly placed on the kitchen table.

“So what, Lance?” Keith asks, biting at Lance’s lower lip as his own hands go to work; one threading through Lance’s short hair, the other trailing down his arm.

“So fucking _amazing_,” Lance practically purrs, and warmth coils in Keith’s abdomen, right behind his bellybutton.

A tongue sweeps into his mouth and Keith kisses back in earnest. He’s not sure how long they stay like this, only that with every passing minute he’s getting more and more worked up and less and less sure they’re going to make it to the bedroom.

Lance seems to have the same idea, because suddenly Keith is getting leaned back, legs hanging off the edge of the table as Lance’s torso presses down into his. The movement causes their dicks to line up perfectly, and Keith rolls his hips, seeking friction, and Lance pushes back, both of them moaning at the sensation.

“Too,” Lance pants, “too many clothes.”

He’s reluctant to break the kiss but the idea of not having skin contact for even a moment longer is the overwhelming desire. His shirt gets tugged off and Lance stares down at him, chest heaving, pupils blown wide. Keith pulls at the hem of Lance’s shirt, and Lance draws it off slowly, fingers fisted around the back of his shirt collar, dropping it to the ground in a flourish.

“Dramatic ass,” Keith says, and Lance grins something feral.

“But you adore it.”

“Unfortunately.”

Lance laughs, and Keith grins back, and this time when they kiss, it’s softer, less heated but no less passionate. Keith’s hands trail over Lance’s arms, feeling the taut muscles beneath his tan skin, fingers dancing over faded scars and memories. He can still feel the raised tissue where Lance snagged his shoulder on the wire fence of their football stadium trying to get in for free.

_They had spent years putting things into place, without either realizing. _

_And now it’s all coming to a head._

Lance breaks away from Keith’s mouth, dragging his lips over Keith’s jaw and creating a trail up to his ear. He bites on the lobe and Keith groans, dick throbbing in his jeans.

His hands move away from Lance’s upper body to try and explore his lower body, but they’re pressed so tightly together that it’s hard to do anything other than pull on Lance’s belt loops and grope at his ass.

“So good,” Lance breathes, “you’re so good for me baby.”

Their dicks still rub together every now and then, but it’s not enough, it’s not _nearly enough. _

Lance seems to get the hint and pulls back, Keith’s hands immediately darting between them and undoing Lance’s fly. He shoves at his jeans, and Lance steps back further, pushing them and his underwear down in one smooth movement. He steps out of them, and this time it’s Keith’s chest heaving, staring at the glistening head of Lance’s cock, the way it curves upward and the dark trail of hair that leads down to it, beckoning.

“Goddamn,” Keith murmurs, and Lance’s dick bobs. He’s pretty sure that’s the hottest thing he’s ever witnessed.

“I’m gonna take you right here on this table, fuck you until the legs snap,” Lance says in a voice Keith’s never heard before, and no—_that _is the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

“Lube, condoms, _now_,” Keith says, borderline begging, and Lance nods, moving quickly into the bedroom. Keith takes the opportunity to strip himself of his own pants, hissing when his hands brushes over his painfully hard dick.

Lance is back in less than thirty seconds and stops a foot away from the table. Keith is exactly how Lance left him, sans pants, but Lance looks like he’s seeing him for the very first time.

“Lance?”

His boyfriend shakes his head, clearing whatever thought had taken over, and closes the distance between them, pressing a single, closed-mouth kiss to Keith’s mouth before dropping to his knees.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Lance says, and Keith thinks, _you have no idea how long _I’ve _wanted this._

A mouth finds the inside of his thigh, and Keith’s legs shake as Lance begins to suck his way up his leg, leaving marks Keith knows he’ll find in the morning.

He distantly hears the cap of a bottle popping, but the sound of fingers squelching together is loud and clear.

Lance’s head suddenly pops up between his legs, Keith’s dick in line with his nose. He uses his face to push it to the side and Keith can’t help the noise that escapes his lips, despite the serious look on Lance’s face.

“Hey, so, we probably should have had this conversation before this exact moment, but, safe sex?”

Keith frowns at him. “You have a condom, right?”

Lance’s face doesn’t crack in a joke like Keith expects it to. “No, I mean, are you—?”

“Am I what, Lance?” Keith knows he’s the blunter out of the pair of them, but it would help sometimes if he didn’t always have to guess Lance’s meaning.

“Clean?” Lance squeaks out.

Keith’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, uh yeah. You’re the first person I’ve been with in like two years, and I got tested right after my last relationship ended.” He doesn’t mention that he wanted to know the exact same thing. Lance has always been more… promiscuous.

Lance nods. “Clean here too. That’s uh—” he coughs, averts his eyes, “part of the reason it took us so long to get back to this point? I wanted to make sure it was all good before we… you know.”

Suddenly, the wait feels worth it. Yeah the month was long and damn Keith wants this like nothing else, but he fully appreciates the concern Lance put into it.

“So we’re all good?”

Lance grins at him. “We’re good, baby.”

And then his mouth is back on Keith, and Keith’s head hits the wooden table with a thump, hands grabbing at the edge as if somehow, that will hold him back from the freefall he knows is soon to come.

_He’s pretty sure their dominoes have always been on a table, lined up all the way to the edge, falling faster and faster and faster toward the cliff._

Wet fingers circle his hole and Keith keens, back arching on the table. He’s not sure what it is about Lance that seems to revert him to his seventeen-year-old self, but he wants this more than he’s wanted anything before.

He tries to push back against those taunting fingers but a hand splayed on his hip stops him. “Easy, babe,” Lance says, and Keith pouts.

Keith opens his mouth to protest just as Lance slips one finger into his ass, and Keith lets out a breathy moan instead. His dick throbs, precum beading at the tip, and Lance is murmuring indistinguishable praises into his hip bone.

It’s slow, a soft drag in and out, and Keith is whimpering, wanting more, more of _Lance_, more of this, _more more more._

But Lance can’t read his mind and continues to shallowly thrust that one single finger in and out, until Keith feels tears forming in the corners of his eyes with need.

“_Lance_,” he whines.

“Yes, love?” he asks, perfectly innocent as if his hands aren’t covered in lube and he doesn’t have a finger up Keith’s ass.

Keith makes a sound, hoping that’s enough to get his point across, but Lance tsks his tongue. “Use your words, please.”

“_Please_,” Keith grinds out, and he’s pretty sure he can hear Lance purr.

“There you go.” A second finger is added and Keith’s hips buck; he’s desperate and needy to a point where he’s not sure he’s really going to last long enough for Lance to actually fuck him.

This, Lance seems to get. His fingers pick up the pace and before long a third is added, his long fingers perfect for brushing against his prostate and causing Keith to pant.

“_Please_,” he says again. His dick is throbbing and he’s already so close to the edge. He can hear the sound of the condom tearing open, the squelch as more lube is added, and then Lance’s face pops up, flushed to the ears, and Keith reaches out with one hand to drag his sore knuckles along his cheekbone.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, and Lance, somehow, grows even redder.

“You ready?”

“I was ready half an hour ago.”

“It’s called foreplay.”

“Well it actually felt more like torture—”

The head of Lance’s dick brushes against his asshole, and Keith cuts off abruptly. It’s more insistent the second time, Lance reaching a hand down to help guide it in. The head pops past that tight ring of muscle, both of them exhaling heavily, as Lance slowly pushes in, stopping about halfway.

He leans down, nose to nose with Keith, causing Keith’s eyes to go crossed as he tries to meet the blue.

“Tell me if I need to stop,” Lance says, in such a gentle voice that Keith feels that warmth behind his bellybutton again, feels the coil of something that isn’t sex or lust.

“I will.”

Lance kisses him, softly, gently, not at all like a man who has half a dick up someone else’s ass. He slides the rest of the way in, bottoming out with a heady groan, and Keith feels full.

But he also desperately wants Lance to _move_.

Keith shifts his hips, trying to get Lance’s dick to press against that one spot, sucking against Lance’s neck. Lance pulls back, dragging the moment out, and then thrusts back in. Keith’s back arches off the table, chest pushing against chest, fingers scrabbling for something to hold onto.

“Oh, fuck, _yes_.”

Lance is slow at first, hitting hard and deep, but not quite enough to brush against his prostate. He gradually picks up speed until he’s slamming into Keith, the table beneath them scraping against the floor, Keith’s dick weeping a puddle onto his stomach. Lance changes the angle and manages to drive perfectly into that spot, and Keith moans, and he should feel ashamed of it, but it’s hard to feel ashamed when he’s getting fucked within an inch of his life by _Lance_.

Lance has one arm stretched out above them, fingers curling against the opposite edge of the table so that they don’t go sliding off, the other finding Keith’s dick, firm fingers wrapping around, thumb swiping over the head. It only takes a few strokes and Lance ramming perfectly into that spot to have Keith coming, mouth open but not making any sound and his thighs quivering.

Lance is still driving into him, to the point where Keith borders on over-stimulation, but he doesn’t want it to stop. He never wants this to stop.

“Fuck you’re fucking perfect,” Keith breathes, and Lance’s hips stutter. “You’re so good to me, goddamn.”

“Keith,” Lance says, voice breaking, and Keith knows exactly what he’s doing to him.

“You’re so wonderful, Lance, stretched out above me like this, giving it to me like this. Look at you, you’re fucking perfect, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite as amazing as you.” The praises are falling mindlessly from his mouth, and Keith knows that he’s finally reached heaven.

“Such a good boy.” Those are the words that tip Lance over, his hips stuttering, and Keith can feel the warmth in his ass despite the condom.

They’re both breathing heavily, Keith shivering as Lance’s breath tickles his neck. And then Lance pulls out, both of them wincing, his cock still half hard. Before Keith can process what’s happening—mind still blissed from the orgasm—Lance is dropping to his knees, licking up the cum on Keith’s stomach. It’s only been a few minutes, but his cock is already giving a stir of interest, Lance’s blue eyes locked on his and taking Keith’s breath away.

He’s half-hard by the time Lance has licked his stomach clean, tip of his dick red and glistening from the attention.

“Look at you,” Lance croons, “all spread out for me on the table. Perfect little feast.” He punctuates his sentence with a bite to Keith’s thigh, right on top of another mark that has Keith wincing as pleasure washes over him.

Lance stands, knees cracking as he does so, and Keith grins lazily up at him.

“I think,” Lance says in a slow, lazy voice, “that we take the second round to the bedroom.”

“Please,” Keith moans, and tries to stand, only to get stopped by a hand to his chest.

“Let me,” Lance says, and scoops him up in one smooth motion off the table, Keith hooking his legs around Lance’s waist on instinct. They laugh the entire way to the bedroom, Lance’s legs shaking from the exertion of carrying Keith as well as the lingering effects of an orgasm.

The backs of his knees hit the mattress first as Lance tries to gently set him down. The rest of their bodies follow quickly after, and Keith is almost reluctant to admit how good the bed feels compared to the table. Mainly because the table sex was hot.

“I’m surprised you didn’t have things at the ready in the kitchen,” Keith remarks as Lance rummages around in a bedside drawer.

“Yeah, well,” Lance says, lifting one shoulder as he searches. “Thought we’d have the restraint to get all the way here.”

Keith hums, not a yes or a no, because goddamn he enjoyed every moment of table sex. His dick twitches just thinking about what already happened.

Lance crawls back over to him, evidently having found what he was looking for, tucking it in the sheets. Keith tries to reach for it, but Lance swats his hand away. “A surprise,” he says.

“Uh huh,” Keith replies. The idea of asking follow-up questions is there, but then Lance’s mouth goes back to his neck and all thoughts are out the window.

He’s straddling Keith’s waist, long, strong legs bracketing Keith’s narrow hips. A hand finds its way into Keith’s hair, and he gasps as Lance tugs lightly. “Pretty sure your hair is going to be the death of me one day, pretty boy,” Lance murmurs, and Keith arches up into him, definitely hard. Their cocks just barely graze, and Keith keens.

“Ready, baby?”

“So ready,” Keith hisses.

Lance digs around in the sheets for whatever object he stashed there, and Keith strains to get a glimpse of it. Whatever it is—definitely more than the standard lube and condom—disappears before Keith can see what it is.

He quickly finds out.

A low, robotic humming fills the small gap between them, and Keith’s head shoots up from where it had been resting on the pillow. Lance is grinning something wicked between his legs, and though he can’t see the vibrator, the sound and that smirk are enough.

“Lance…”

“It’s clean, don’t worry. If it’s too much, just say so and we’ll stop, no questions.”

Keith bites his lip. Lance looks so eager, and he could feel the sincerity in his words. The moment Keith doesn’t feel right with the situation, it would be over.

He nods, and the sheer delight in Lance’s eyes is enough.

“We’re gonna start out nice and slow,” Lance says in a low voice. There’s the sound of a cap popping and then the trademark squelching of lube. The gentle anticipation that comes with knowing what’s going to happen next.

Keith didn’t lie when he said the last thing he had done was over two years ago. But that didn’t mean he had been absolutely celibate on his own. He;s pretty sure he knew his way _well enough _around a vibrator, and he could take—

“Ohh_hh_—” cut of Keith’s thought process. The tip of the dildo is against his asshole, vibrating, causing Keith’s hips to jump off the bed and his dick to start leaking. Yeah, he’s definitely hard again. It’s difficult not to be, sue him.

Lance is saying something, but Keith’s focus is entirely on where the vibrator is slowly entering his ass.

“God, Lance, yes, ple_ase don’t ever stop_, oh my god, fuck, Lance—”

The stream of words are incoherent at best, but there’s nothing he could do to stop it. His hands are fisted in the sheets and his back was arched off the bed, toes curling. He can feel Lance moving the toy, thrusting in and out. There was doing it to yourself, and then there was, there was, _this_. Giving Lance full control.

He’s close. It had been a stupidly short amount of time but Keith is close, gasps and moans coming out of his mouth with sheer abandon now, heat pooling low, the vibration brushing _perfectly _against that one spot, dear god he’s close—

And Lance pulls the toy all the way out.

Everything stops.

Keith whines, releasing the sheet and reaching for his weeping dick. He just needs a little bit more.

Lance grabs his wrist and Keith whined again, harder, more needy, looking up into Lance’s gleaming eyes.

“You’re a dick.”

“That is in fact one part of me, yes.”

“Ugh, Lance, I was close.”

“Do you trust me?”

There’s something in his tone that makes Keith pause. The gleam in Lance’s eye. The way he looked positively sinful, holding him pinned like this. The desperation lacing his words.

“Of course.”

“Then let me take care of you.”

The process starts all over again. Lance, teasing with that damned toy. Keith, throttling toward the edge only for Lance to pull back at the last second, causing Keith’s dick to throb with the lack of release. Again, and again, and again.

“You’ve edged me four times now, Lance,” Keith pants, body both exhausted and like a live wire.

“Which is why this,” Lance says, scooping his hands under Keith’s ass, “is going to feel so good.” In one move, Lance flips Keith onto his stomach, ass in the air, dick dripping between his legs. One angry head stares at the other, and Keith buries his face in the pillow, inhaling Lance. Ocean and coconut and laundry detergent. He was pretty sure the smell of laundry detergent is never something he found so appealing until now.

Lance presses a single kiss to his left ass cheek, and then pulls Keith down by the hips until he’s at the angle Lance wants. There is the sound of the condom tearing open, followed by the squelching of lube.

And then, blessedly, Lance’s dick entering his ass for the second time tonight. With his ass all teased open, there was no gentleness in his pace. It’s rough and hard and exactly how Keith wants it.

His face slams into the pillow with every thrust, fingers bunching in a desperate attempt to find something to hold onto. This. _This _is the sex Keith had been picturing over and over and over again, every wet dream and cold shower. It’s perfect.

Only once had the vibrator hit his prostate, and it was enough to nearly send Keith over. After that, it was like Lance was purposefully avoiding the area. But now. Oh boy, not now.

“Ahhh, Lance, harder, _please_,” Keith begs. Strong fingers grasp at his hips, digging in, much the same way Keith was wrecking Lance’s sheets.

Lance slams into that spot, and Keith cries out, noise muffled where his face is buried. Fuck. He’s so fucking close. He just needs a little more.

As if Lance senses his need, one of his hands leaves his hip and reaches for his dick, deft fingers wrapping around. He pulls once, twice, and with a swipe over the head of his dick Keith is coming, vision blacking out with the force of his orgasm.

Lance continues to thrust, hips stuttering, and then comes, collapsing on top of Keith’s back. He still has one arm wrapped around Keith’s middle, the other slowly leaving his hip. When he’s finally able to breathe semi-normally, Keith flops onto his stomach, barely having the coherency to avoid his own wet spot.

He’s too sore and sated to do anything more than hiss as Lance pulls out, tying off and depositing the condom somewhere on the floor. One of them kicks the soiled sheets off the bed, and Keith stretches his legs, muscles quivering. Lance is slowly cleaning up the bed, putting things back where they belong, and Keith can feel himself drifting off to sleep.

“Hey,” Lance says, kissing his neck. “I need you to stay awake long enough to get cleaned up.”

Keith mumbles something into the pillows.

“Babe, please?” Lance asks, kissing his neck again. “You were so good for me just now. God, you were so good. Do you know how long I wanted that, wanted you?”

Keith picks his head up from the pillows, looking at Lance with one half closed eye. “I have an idea,” he says.

Lance grins at him, but it was nothing like his grins from earlier. This was one was soft, gentle, crinkled around the edges.

“So long,” he whispers, and the feeling that blooms inside Keith’s chest isn’t something he dares to name.

Lance kisses him, softly, and Keith kisses back, finding one of Lance’s hands and threading their fingers together, not caring about the smell of sex or the griminess of it all.

This was Lance. Here, with him.

And that was all that mattered.

“You know,” Keith says, breaking away, but not moving. “We never got around to that amazing dinner you cooked.”

Lance just laughs. “Oh, so now you’re okay with moving?”

Keith can’t help the wash of warmth, the way he knows his cheeks are heating up. “Well, it is you, after all.”

Lance’s face softens, and his blue eyes take on something different.

“I love you,” Lance says.

Oh.

_And there it is. _

_The point of no return_.

**Author's Note:**

> welp. yeah. that was a lot of sex for me to write. so yeah hope you all enjoyed. 
> 
> comments and kudos are amazing and i'll adore you forever if you give them
> 
> come shout at me @:  
tumblr: blondeslytherin  
insta: blondeslytherine


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